Harry Potter & the End of Dark Days
by HPLuvr189
Summary: Twisted storylines...surprise endings...when five of Hogwarts most famous kids tell their personal views of what happens at Hogwarts during their 7th year, what will happen? It can't be good! Read on to find out ...
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter and the End of Dark Days By Kim Lock  
  
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me. They are the property of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury Publishing, and Scholastic Publishing. The plot and storyline are completely made up by me.  
  
CHAPTER 1  
  
As he gazed out the window, he smelled the slightly perfumed air. He sighed as he took in the scent of lavender and honeysuckle. The tranquility of the moment made him feel whole. The two pieces of his heart that had been ripped out when he was a boy were finally filled. Now he could live peacefully with the world once more. He looked at the sun that was just about to reach the horizon and realized that he had never noticed the simplicity of the situation. The beauty . . . the splendor of never having to worry about anything anymore. He felt as if he was under a well-placed Imperius Curse. The pure bliss of not having to fret was almost too much to handle in itself. He looked over at his bureau and saw two pictures of his best friends, who had been killed years earlier. He quickly looked away from the frames . . . he had never completely recovered from the deaths of his best friends . . . Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. "NEVILLE!" his grandmother shrieked up the steps. "COME TO THE KITCHEN THIS INSTANT!" "Coming, Nana," Neville replied rather flatly. He couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts. Living with Nana these days had become nothing less than torture. Her goal in life seemed to be making his life as miserable as possible. She made him weed the garden, wash her with his own bare hands, and make her dinner every night. If the dinner was burnt in any way, it was thrown out and he had to start again . . . without magic! Neville opened his bedroom door and walked down the hall. The little four-room flat he and Nana lived in was not very comforting. It was filled with horrid pictures of Nana's other grandsons, whom she favored over him, and smelled of soiled milk. The worst part was the fact that he had to live here for four more years, until he was twenty-one. He tried not to think of this though. As he reached the kitchen, he rolled his eyes and said, "What, Nana?" He looked to his left and saw a man in a pin striped cloak and suit with a green bowler hat sitting at his kitchen table sipping a glass of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey. He didn't know this man and immediately asked, "Nana, who is he?" "Neville! Don't say that in such a disrespectful tone! It's the Minister of Magic!" Nana said in an undertone. Neville felt his face flush with embarrassment and he straightened his posture as he went down to sit at the table. He looked to his right and saw Nana, in her lime-green dress and horrible red hat with the stuffed vulture looking admirably at Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. "Hello, Neville, old boy. Didn't mean to startle you . . ." he said, patting Neville's hand. Neville wondered why this rather old looking man whom he'd never met before in his life was looking at him with glassy, swollen eyes and patting him on the hand. He was confused greatly. "Neville . . . your parents have died." Neville was looking quite unperturbed by this news. Fudge looked at him strangely until Neville replied, "Yeah, I knew that. They died about three months ago, didn't they?" Fudge was obviously taken aback at his relaxed reaction to this information. "Well . . . yes, but . . . how did you know?" "Nana here told me." Nana looked over at Neville with menacing eyes. It seemed as if she was telling him that he was going to get the beating of his life later on. "How did you find out, Mrs. Longbottom?" "I-I-I . . . well . . . I . . . he . . . I have my useful sources at the Ministry, Mr. Fudge," Nana retorted. "What I'd like to know is why the Ministry has waited so long to tell me," Neville asked. "There's been a fair bit of gossip going around and we wanted to make sure that it was all hushed up before you found out." Neville remained silent for the next few minutes, and finally, Fudge spoke up. "Well, Neville, they've been restored at Wicker's Magical Funeral Home and the funeral will be held on the 28th of August. I am sure your many well-wishers and friends will want to be there to comfort you?" "Yeah . . ." "Okay, well Mrs. Longbottom, I shall be off. I give my very greatest condolences, and if you've any questions, I'll be glad to answer them if I can. Here's my number," Fudge handed her a business card, "and if you ever have any questions concerning other matters, I will be happy to oblige." "Yes, Mr. Fudge, I do have a few more questions," Nana snapped. Mr. Fudge was looking violated, as if he couldn't bear the fact that a ninety-nine year old woman was treating him inferiorly. But, none the less, he sat back down at the table and took another sip of his Firewhiskey. "How did they get killed exactly? My 'useful source' only told me that they were killed . . . not exactly how." "Now that information, I cannot disclose as of right now." "The boy's parents died! Not to mention my son! I think we deserve an answer!" Neville was surprised at Nana's anger and sarcasm. She was usually so respectful and reserved. "Now, Mrs. Longbottom, there's no need to raise your voice. It's just been agreed by the Ministry that no information pertaining to deaths at this time can be given out until the Ministry sees fit to release it! I've got a list of the signatures, if you'd like to see!" Nana shut up after this comment and Fudge said, "I think that I'll be off now!" He stood up defiantly and stomped off out the door. He slammed the door so hard that one of the panes fell out. Nana looked at Neville and said, "Boy, you never let people that have a high opinion of themselves treat you inferior!" Neville just stared back at his grandmother surprisingly. He'd never seen this anger, this rage . . . this side of Nana . . . the odd thing was though, was that he liked it. As Nana bustled irritably around the kitchen, cleaning up the dirty cooking utensils from breakfast, Neville slowly stood up and inched along the wall, trying not to set her off again. He didn't want to be the one who started all this corruption. Neville finally made it to the hallway again. He stood there, looking sideways, then forwards, and then backwards. He didn't know what to do with his life. To this point, he'd never thought where his life was going to take him. He felt an emptiness inside him . . . pure purposelessness. He felt as if he had gone as far as he was going to go in life and he wouldn't make it any further than this. It was now that the single thought ran through his head . . . "Where's the gun?"  
  
CHAPTER 2 When the girl looked down the hall, expecting to see Harry Potter, the famous boy - wait, no, - the famous wizard, walking towards her, but with no luck. With a heavy heart and a big sigh, she turned on her heel and started walking back down the corridor towards the stairwell. "When's he going to arrive?" she wondered silently to herself. She couldn't wait to see her brother's best friend, whom she'd had a crush on ever since the first time she'd laid eyes on him. She slipped into a kind of euphoria as she imagined his lean, muscular body wrapping his arms around her. She was quickly driven out of her momentary bliss when she heard a young male voice shrieking her name. "GINNY!" her brother Ron screamed. "What, Ron!" Ginny yelled back. "What's wrong with you? You have been daydreaming way too much for your own good lately!" Ginny, slight embarrassed and blushing enormously, looked down at her feet and said, timidly, "So what?" "I'm beginning to wonder about you . . . well, you better not make a fool of yourself around your dearest Harry, since he's arriving in about an hour." Ginny immediately perked off and scampered off to her room. She had to put on her make-up and do her hair . . . but all in one hour? 


	2. HPeodd2

She didn't care - as long as she got to see her dearest love, she'd be happy. As she absentmindedly put on her blush and eyeliner, she thought, "This time he's going to notice me! This time he's going to fall for me!" Caught in the middle of teenage lust, she did not notice the time flying by. As she put her hair into their proper rollers, she heard a boy say from behind, "Hey, Ginny!" Half-surprised, half-pleased, the eye candy that stood before her was not enough to make her realize that she still had a green facial cleanser mask planted right on her face. She saw Harry Potter, her beautiful angel, looking at her amusedly, obviously trying to contain his laughter. She was almost glad that she had this face mask on, so he could not see how vibrantly cherry red her face was right now. She stood there, immobile from the embarrassment of the situation. Not knowing what do nor say, she was grateful that Harry finally left, unable to control his laughter any longer. Ginny rushed to the door, not thinking this was funny at all, and closed it with a smack. A small yelp echoed throughout the hall. Evidently, the door had smacked him on the butt. Ginny couldn't help but smile devilishly to herself . . . she'd never wash that door again. After she had cleaned herself up a bit and finished her hair and make- up, and had made SURE that all remnants of face mask were cleaned off her face, she dressed herself and made her way slowly down the stairs. She was scared of what Harry would think . . . what if he paid no attention to her, as he usual did? What if he never even commented on her smooth and shiny hair? Didn't even notice how nice her eyes looked when they shone brightly in the dark? This was no time to concern herself with the terrible "what ifs" of dating. Men liked women who were confident about themselves, and Ginny had been trying all summer to not be the mousy, young, shy girl Harry had once known . . . This summer was different. It was the last chance she'd have, this year at Hogwarts, before Harry went off to be an Auror for the Ministry. Who knows where he'd be sent off to . . . yes . . . as sad as it was to say, this was Harry's last year at Hogwarts, and Ginny's sixth. She tried not to remind herself of this, as this brought her down and she remained deeply depressed for several days after. She reached the bottom of the landing, her high heels clicked on the old wooden floor and she turned to the right and walked into the living room. She braced herself for Harry's reaction, but sadly he wasn't there . . . she continued her venture into the kitchen, where Harry still was not. She assumed that he and the rest of the family were out in the garden . . . Harry and her older brother's were probably playing Quidditch. Her assumptions were correct . . . Ginny loved to watch Harry play Quidditch . . . during the school year, she and her friends would sit and watch him admirably with pure love in their eyes. Yes, Ginny's other friends had crushes on him too, but none of them were as lucky to have him as your brother's best friend, which meant she got to see him all the time . . . even over the holiday! She did her best to swing her hips and make herself as noticeable as possible, but she was not successful in her attempts. He was just too involved and concentrated on the game. She tried another approach . . . She yelled, "Hey, Ron, get Harry with the Bludger!" Ron turned around and his mouth dropped open at the sight of his little sister. He flew down to the ground immediately and landed on the soft surface with a loud thud. He stomped towards Ginny and looked at her. In an undertone and pressed voice, Ron glared at her, saying, "Gin, just what do you think you're doing, trying to seduce my best friend?" "Whoever said I was trying to seduce your best friend? I dress like this all the time . . ." That statement was partly true, she had been dressing a lot more provocatively lately, and Ron had no idea where she had been getting the clothes. He wanted his little sister covered up . . . the thought of her becoming some sort of scarlet woman was too much to handle. "Ginny - go change right now!" It was then that, to Ginny's pleasure, Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, and Harry landed on the ground behind Ron . . . Harry walked off to get a drink, but Charlie, Bill, Fred, and George gathered around Ginny. "Gin! What're you doing dressed like that!" Bill yelled. "Why don't you go and put a jacket on . . . or at least something that covers up your ass!" Charlie said. "I'd agree!" Fred and George said together. "When will you all just let me grow up!" Ginny shrieked at her brothers. "I'm sixteen years old and I don't appreciate being bullied around by my brother who's only one year older than me!" Ron apparently couldn't find the words to say to this and Ginny pushed him out of the way, along with Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George. She strut her stuff all the way across the yard, and when finally behind Harry, tapped him on the back Harry whipped around, and all in one second, he had spilled his fruit punch all over Ginny. Her sassy, sexy, short red dress had been ruined. Her hair was in ruins and she was stained red from the juice. She quickly dissolved into tears, and ran off towards the house. Without knowing where she was going, she tripped on her heel, skinned her knee, and put several runners in her hose. She continued, bawling, arms flailing everywhere, running. She ran through the garden, out the gate, and down the street. She knew one thing and that was it: she didn't plan on returning to the Burrow tonight.  
  
CHAPTER 3 The girl looked through her binoculars, in the arms of a short, stocky twenty-one year old Quidditch player, gazing out over the Bulgarian sunset. As they sat together on the swing, she felt safe. No one could touch her here . . . not while she was being caressed by her boyfriend, Viktor Krum. Several minutes passed by until Viktor spoke. "Herm-own-ninny, I vont to tell you somezing." "What is it, Viktor?" "I --- vell, I --- I think I love you." Hermione blushed a deep magenta and gazed back into Viktor's eyes. They were filled with love and affection for the girl that was lying cradled in his arms. She smiled daintily and said, "Thanks." The scene couldn't have been more embarrassing. Viktor's eyes bulged and shrieked, "VAT!" She couldn't believe what she had just said. She had been ready to say it . . . those three little words that could have changed her forever. She'd only been in love once befor and she'd thought and thought about when Viktor would say it. She'd prepared herself for this moment ages and ages ago, and all she could manage to say was a measly, "Thanks?" Deeply ashamed of herself, she tried to calm Viktor down, but he refused to cooperate. In the end, he stomped off towards his house and left Hermione on the swing, alone. He not only left Hermione on that swing, but he left her forever. He couldn't find it in his heart to forgive Hermione, and sent her on the next plane home. But that was okay . . . Hermione wasn't too hurt at the occurrence . . . she had her best friends waiting for her when she got home. See, Hermione had left Hogwarts in fifth year. She'd liked Bulgaria so much that she was sent to Durmstrang to attend there, but more or less to be with Viktor. She hadn't seen Harry or Ron in two years, and he wondered whether their reaction would be happy or hostile. After all, she did abandon them without so much as a goodbye. Later that day, as her plane pulled into a London airport, she got off the plane and went about her business as usual. She hadn't any idea of who she might run into or what she might meet. She was walking along the airport, trying to find a phone booth so she could contact a taxi station, which would take her to her home in Durham. She was in the midst of absentminded excavations when she ran into him. Her luggage toppled onto his bags and it was a great big mess. She leaned down, muttering a sad 'sorry' when she heard the voice. It was a deep, gruff, "That's okay." She instantly recognized it, but it was no longer the squeaky little boy voice she remembered from two years ago. Hermione, rather timidly, looked up and met eyes with the man she had run into. It indeed was him. She couldn't believe her eyes . . . he was now so handsome and muscular. He had grown quite a bit, also. It was now that she noticed he was looking at her oddly too. "Is that . . . you, Hermione?" Over-pleased that he recognized her, she flung her arms around him and said, "Yes, it's me, Neville!" He lifted her in the air, and looked her in the eyes. He kissed her. Highly surprised at this occurrence, Hermione pulled back, winded, and looked at Neville in astonishment. Neville looked quite embarrassed and flustered. He returned to his old habit, looking down at his feet when he knew he was about to be scolded. "Neville . . . why, well, I mean . . . why did you do that?" "Old habit?' Yes, it was true . . . for the summer before fifth year, the summer before Hermione left for Durmstrang, Neville and she had fallen deeply in love . . . of course Hermione hadn't told Viktor of this . . . he would have been too hurt. Perhaps this was the reason she couldn't say "I love you" to Viktor . . . maybe she still had a thing for her old lover, whom she had not seen in over two years. The awkwardness and tenseness had grown overly so, and they bid each other good-bye before either of them had to explain their actions. But it had happened . . . her flame would soon be rekindled. 


End file.
